


My Way

by Sylvestia



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylvestia/pseuds/Sylvestia
Summary: A short exploration into Roy's speech at the end of the game.Contains spoilers.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	My Way

**Author's Note:**

> Some may know that Film Noir is one of my favorite genres. It shouldn't have surprised me that i instantly fell in love with this game.  
> Several years too late, but whatever.  
> I have been trying not to slip too far into it, because i still very much love DBH and don't want to let go of it yet, but I needed some fresh air.
> 
> The song title has nothing to do with this, it was just the song that came up when i had to enter a title... also Frank Sinatra, come on.
> 
> So here have this... character study, i'll call it.  
> Roy intrigues me. He's terrifying and interesting and I wanted to rip his head off for doing what he did, but while writing this, I started seeing his actions in a different way.  
> So here it is. I don't know if i captured his character.
> 
> I don't know if i'll write more for this. Maybe. Maybe not.

It was a sinking feel in the pit of his stomach when Elsa shouted at him across the chapel. She had every right to, all of it was true. It was his fault that all of this had tuned out the way it did.

It was Cole’s too, for sticking his nose into things it should have best stayed out of.

Damned kid. The woman was right, it was the reason he didn’t have a witty comeback for what she accused him of. It wouldn’t have been right either. Phelps’ wife and kids were sitting in the first row.

And Cole’s dead body hidden inside a box, under the flag. The children were young, but they were silent. Eyes glued to the wooden casket. They knew what was going on.

Roy didn’t dare to approach Cole’s family when he had seen them earlier.

But that damned German junkie whore accusing him of all the right things almost made him scream back at her. She always made his blood boil, she knew hot to push his buttons, yet this time she didn’t do it to piss him off.

Her pain carried across the building and hit him like a punch in the face.

Maybe he had wanted a bit of the guy’s limelight, maybe he hadn’t cared too much of the consequences of his actions, but now Cole was dead.

And all the pretty things seemed so insignificant. What did it matter? The force had just lost a great cop. A great person.

A good friend.

And maybe that was why his voice wavered a bit when he continued to speak, reality sinking in.

That while he hadn’t seen Phelps in quite a bit, he would not return again. He would never been seen alive again.

And maybe it really was all his fault.

And maybe that was why he hid behind the next person to speak their thoughts.

Keeping a façade.

Regretting silently.


End file.
